Fanny Does Ferelden
by Fanny Cousland
Summary: Fanny Cousland has only recently been awakened to the sensual world of sexual pleasure. She'll do anything and anyone in her quest for true love. Female Cousland/Everyone. Contains an ever expanding list of kinks including bondage, anal, beardsex and more. Actually updated, zomg!
1. Chapter 1: My First Time

It all started the day I turned eighteen and decided that my birthday present to myself would be to lose my virginity. I rose from my bed of rose coloured sheets and examined every inch of myself in the full length mirror by my side. My shoulder-length platinum blonde hair fell to my shoulders in tousled ringlets, framing my heart-shaped face in a way that showed off my fine cheekbones and piercing blue eyes.

My pale creamy skin was soft and dusted lightly with freckles. My breasts were high and firm, not too big, not too small and when I squeezed one with a curious hand I moaned out loud at the sensation, because they were so sensitive I could easily work myself to orgasm just by playing with my sensuous nipples.

I slipped a tentative finger between my nether lips, parting the wet thatch of platinum blonde hair that grew there twixt my legs. I was already soaking wet from the mere thought of losing my virginity at last and the temptation to futter myself then and there was overwhelming, but I resisted it. I swore I would not touch myself again until I had been taken and made love to until I was overwhelmed with pleasure. But the mouth between my legs was hungry and angered at my refusal to sate its desire. The throbbing need inside me was almost painful, but I ignored it and dressed for the upcoming battle.

First I imprisoned my perfectly-formed breasts in a brassier of rose-coloured satin, edged with black and gold lace that fastened up the back with a sequence of tiny hooks. Then I drew on my matching satin and lace panties with the black satin and gold trimmed garter belt that showed off my shapely buttocks. Then I pulled on my thigh-high cloth of gold stockings before lacing my pale pink corset over my brassier. I didn't need to be laced to reduce my waist, I had a natural waist of eighteen and a half inches. After admiring the wonderful (and unenhanced by padding) cleavage that the outfit gave me I wriggled into my tight wispy rose silk skirt that had a full length split up each side to show off my stockings. Then I slipped my tiny stocking feet into my pink bejewelled slippers and stuck a silk rose in my hair to complete my outfit.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and felt the love nectar flowing out of my slit in response to my complete gorgeousity, there was no way I could fail.

I found Dairren taking tea with mother in the drawing room. When I walked into the room swaying my full-but-not-too-wide hips, he rose to greet me, his eyes sticking out like they were on stalks. By the way he clasped his hands before his crotch I could tell something else had risen to greet me too. He was fairly handsome man, with fine features and red hair. Also he was a noble like myself, so I would not be lowering myself by allowing him to deflower me.

My mother wished me a happy birthday, obviously oblivious to the naked sexual energy that was crackling between me and Dairren. She poured me a cup of tea which I rose slowly and sensuously to my swollen lips, keeping my eyes on his as I sipped from the cup, my tongue flicking across the hard bone china. I could see he was having difficulty keeping his composure and that sweat was starting to bead across his naked upper lip.

There was sudden crash, Dairren had dropped his cup and it shattered on the floor. Mother rose to tell the servants to clean up the mess, leaving me and my frustrated squire alone. "Y-you have grown up so fast!" Dairren stammered, a flush rising to his cheeks.

"It seems like only yesterday we all played together and swam naked in the river," I said, watching him carefully.

"You have become quite a woman."

"Oh but I'm not yet a woman," I said coyly. "It takes a man to make a woman, as I'm sure you know."

He looked at me sidelong and then, underneath the table, I felt him put his hand on my thigh. "I can arrange that you enjoy your coming of age to the fullest heights, if you so wish," he said, his voice thick with lust.

"You know where I sleep," I whispered, wantonly, just before mother returned.

We talked no more of such things with my mother around, of course, but unobserved beneath the table Dairren's hand roamed high and bold upon my thigh, a promise of things to come.

It had been an agony, waiting for the night to come, but with the dawning of the dark Dairren came to me as he had promised. He stripped for me by the light of the great fire burning in my bedroom's hearth, the light playing over his harden muscles as my gaze was dragged further and further down his perfectly chiselled body. I had not seen him naked since he was a child and certain things had grown considerably in size since them. His sex hung heavy and hard between his legs and just looking at it imagining that wonderful length filling me made me tremble with desire.

He took me into his arms and kissed me, running his hands up and down my back, his tongue filled my mouth and made me moan against it in bliss. Then his hands slid round to the lacings of my corset and he began to unlace me, never ceasing to kiss me as he did. The pink garment fell to the floor as his hands caressed my breasts through my brassier. I had been aroused all day and the flick of his thumb across the flimsy satin covering my sensitive nipples made me lose all control.

I felt my sex convulse as a I cried out sharply in pleasure, my first orgasm from the hands of another. But rather than release my pent-up desire it only increased my need to be touched and I rubbed my still clothed body against Dairren's hard muscles like a cat in heat. He laughed at my wanton nature and tore off my skirt, ripping the flimsy silk into shreds as it came off, but I didn't not care, I had many servants who would replace the skirt if they could not mend it.

Now, clad only in my most sexy underwear, Dairren brought me to my knees before him. I had never been so close to a man's thingie before and the whole thing fascinated me. I rubbed the hardness of him against my face, enjoying the musky masculine smell of him and his curious sheath of flesh. I licked my way down his shaft, marking my way with kisses so I would not get lost in the forest of his wiry pubic hair. Dairren pulled me down on to him so that I took the head of his thingie into my mouth. I took as much as him into my perfectly formed mouth as I could, but I could not take him very deep, so I concentrated on giving as much sensation as I could to his head, while stroking the rest of his shaft with my hands.

Dairren fucked my face hard as I bobbed my head up and down before him, I discovered I like giving pleasure almost as much as receiving it and hearing Dairren making helpless noises of pleasure made my body respond. But he did not let me bring him to orgasm and withdrew from my mouth still hard and purple, wet with my salvia. He gave me a look that was pure male sex and I knew then that he was going to take my virginity for real.

He tore away my delicate satin panties and grabbed my bare bum with his strong manly hands. He lifted me and placed me on his cock, easing his hard long length deep inside me with ease. I was so wet that it didn't hurt at all and of course, I had long ago done in my hymen. He held me in place, still standing up and supporting all my weight with his pelvis and strong arms, my legs still wearing their gold stockings, wrapped around his waist. Dairren looked deep into my eyes and kissed me once more before he started to thrust into me.

A cried out as he began to move in and out, but not in pain, never in pain. I opened before him and he filled all of me, every marvellous hard inch of him stretching me and stimulating all those sensitive special places with each stroke. He brought me to orgasm before I had time to process all the different ways he was giving me pleasure and I screamed his name as he ploughed into me.

Still hard, he withdrew from me again and a rush of my love fluids gushed out of me when he did. He lowered me to the ground and dropped to his knees before falling back onto his elbows, still giving me that hard male look. I understood what he wanted and I lowered myself on to him, so slick, so wet.

This time I controlled the movement and I found a rhythm that pleased us both. There was no end to the orgasms that flooded me when I rode him and I could think of nothing but the pleasure that overwhelmed me. As I came for what must have been the fifth or six time Dairren cried out my name and his fluids burst within me, filling me to the core with his white light of love.

Later we cuddled by the fire and he wept into my hair before confessing that it had been his first time too.

Best birthday present ever.


	2. Chapter 2: A Softer Touch

I woke from my sensual slumber and rejoiced for now I knew what it was to be a true woman and loved by a man. Yet something softly sad pulled at my heart strings when I found that I was alone, for my lover Dairren had left sometime in the night. I blinked the sleep from my big beautiful baby blues and shimmed out from my tangled sheets.

I sponged away the remnants of last night's rapturous lovemaking before consulting my vast wardrobe to pick out what beautiful clothes to wear today. I settled on some matching red velvet underwear that rubbed at my delicate woman parts in a pleasing manner and a red satin gown with a full skirt. I skipped the garter belt this time around and instead chose some red thigh highs and matching silk elbow length gloves. I slipped my tiny feet into some shiny shoes covered with red sequins. I looked at myself in the mirror and arranged my tousled platinum blonde curls to my satisfaction.

It was then that I spotted the parchment upon my bedside table and I picked it up with my perfectly manicured hands. It was no doubt a love missive from Dairren, I mused, a sensuous smile teasing across my lips as I opened it. The letter, not my lips.

"_Thanks for the lay, maybe we could do it again some time, but promise you won't make so much noise next time, k? Lots of luv, D._"

The smile vanished from my face as I read the note, each crude and cruel word a pang in my wounded bosom. I thought we had shared a wonderful, magical night, yet it was all too clear that Dairren regarded me as little more than a paid doxy he hadn't even had the decency to pay for. How dare he make love to me and then treat me so! I would show him I was no man's plaything!

I shed a single angry tear which slid slowly down my alabaster cheek before I dashed it away with my ivory hands. I balled up the note and threw it into my waste paper basket where it landed exactly where I had wanted it to because I am naturally dextrous and well-toned, I don't even need to exercise.

At that moment one of the elven servants entered my room, presumably to clean it, I don't know what servants do with their days. I vaguely recognised her as Lady Landra's former lady-in-waiting who my father had won in a game of cards. I had not really given her my full attention before because it struck me then that she was almost as fair as my reflection. She had dark blonde shoulder length hair that hid the points of her ears very well. Her hair also had some braids in it that made her otherwise plain hairstyle more becoming and for some reason I found myself thinking of unbraiding them and burying my face in her hair.

I was obviously more in a state of an emotional whirlwind than I had thought and my distress did not escape the elf's notice. "My Lady, does something ail you?" she asked, in a tone that was almost as gracious as my own dulcet voice. Her emerald orbs were brimming with concern and compassion, but that was only natural that she should empathise with me when my pain and emotional turmoil were so great.

"Are all men total pig jerks or is just the human nobles?" I asked before bursting into tears again. The elf lady whose name I couldn't recall just right then because of my traumatic ordeal made soothing sounds and patted my back with her rough servant's hands. I let her hold me and cried out my woes on her angular shoulder.

Then something changed as her felt her arms holding me gentle and I melted into her elven embrace. I was suddenly intimately aware of the similarities between our womanly forms, though of course I was much better proportioned and endowed than she, but she was not without her own feminine grace and sensuality. I raised my head from her shoulder and gazed deeply into the forest emerald orbs that showed the window to her exotic soul.

Then I gave her a great big smooch , right on the lips.

"Oh!" she gasped, showing a momentary hesitation before kissing me back. She slipped her tongue into my mouth and the delicately womanly sensation of her tongue upon mine made me cry out in surprise and wonder: This was nothing like Dairren's clumsy kisses, but then he had been a clueless virgin who only made me come like seven times, where as whatsername was clearly more experienced in the arts of love craft.

"Oh, My Lady Cousland," she murmured as our kisses deepened, opening ourselves up to the ravening thirst of wanton female desire. She pressed hard against me and I could feel her small breasts thrust against my much more considerably bigger ones. Our nipples sought each other through the fabric that imprisoned them and I felt myself grow wet between my shapely legs from the contact.

"Oh...oh.. you!" I exclaimed, still unable to recall her name in the heat of our forbidden womanly passion.

"Iona, My Lady," the elf said and took her top off revealing her small but perky elven breasts, the nipples dark against her sallow skin. She slid her hands inside the silk of my dress and ripped it to my waist.

"Hey, that was expensive!" I protested and was about to demand she paid for the dress out of her wages when her deft elven fingers were suddenly tugging off my velvet bra and every thought I'd ever had went straight out my head because oh my maker her tongue was on my nipple. I felt my sex convulse in pleasure and I cried out and ground my still-clothed groin against her.  
She pushed me down onto the bed and her hands were suddenly reaching up my skirts. I groaned with desire as she tore away my panties and began to touch my swollen nether lips with her hands. No one had ever touched me down there with their fingers before, not even than stupid jerk pig I had completely forgotten about. She parted my flushed sex with her delicate hand, all the while making love to my right nipple with her artful tongue.

I was just about to wonder exactly what duties Iona had performed for Lady Landra when I felt her fingers touch a specific place just above the open wet slit of my delicate woman flower. A shudder went through all of me as she teased the sensitive nub of flesh and I writhed, helpless under her intense elven erotic onslaught. I felt the love nectar pouring out of me as I orgasmed instantly and almost passed out from the pleasure.

I lay there, blissed out from the first true pleasure I had known, dimly aware that Iona was stripping before me. Then she was lying on top of me, her tongue making trails of pleasure all the way down my soft skin. She thrust her bare crotch against mine our honeyed nectar flowing and mixing together. I opened my legs and her thighs scissored in-between mine, the flower of her sex rubbing against my most sensitive area. It was a womanly delicate sensation unlike anything I had ever felt. I bucked my hips against her, trying to stimulate that little nub of flesh that had made me come before. My desire was so strong it became painful, yet the rubbing of her swollen lady parts against me wasn't enough for me to climax. I made darling little squeaky noises in protest until Iona realised I wasn't getting enough attention.

She rose above me and turned around, directing her tongue to that self same area that craved attention. All I could see were her flat buttocks and completely hairless red and dripping sex. As her tongue swirled around in my sacred cavern I came so hard I screamed and involuntarily thrust my tongue into Iona's open honey soaked love passage. I lapped at her with a tentative curiosity fuelled by continuous orgasms and I was sure I was covering Iona's plain features with all the fluid that was spilling out of me. I lost track of how many times I climaxed underneath Iona's erotic ministrations and I was dimly aware that she had begun to cry out in pleasure herself. Her sex flexed around my exploring mouth and suddenly began to convulse, I was amused that I had actually brought her to climax as it was very charitable thing for me do to for a servant.

A final all consuming orgasm hit me and I passed out from the overload of pleasure, my tongue still inside Iona's swollen sex.


	3. Chapter 3: A Woman Scorned

I awoke feeling happy and satiated and wondered how long I had been sleeping off my surfeit of pleasure. I rose from my tangled sheets still nude and glowing from all the loving exertion I had received. I flushed faintly upon seeing whatsername fully-dressed once more, for the memories of what she had done to me were embarrassing. She was busy at my vanity table with an abacus, her clever elven fingers darting between the counting beads.

She looked up and gave me a humourless smile as she saw me watching her, the empty expression gave me an unfamiliar cold jolt in my stomach. "I have just finished the calculations, My Lady," she said and handed me a piece of parchment. Stunned by her businesslike manner I read the words on the parchment with growing uncertainty.

"_Foreplay: 5 Sovereigns_

_Clothing Repairs: 5 Sovereigns_

_Fingering: 8 Sovereigns_

_Tribadism: 9 Sovereigns_

_Oral: 12 Sovereigns_

_Pretending to Like it: 10 Sovereigns_

_Orgasm Tax: 9 x 5 = 45 Sovereigns_

_Total before tax = 94 Sovereigns_

_Total after Maric's Elf Tax = 105 Sovereigns 28 Silver Pieces_"

"What is this?" I demanded of the elf, my eyes beginning to overflow with tears, for my heart knew the truth even as I tried to deny it.

"An itemised billing for my services, My Lady," she said.

"I didn't realise you were a w-," my voice died, I could say the word, the idea of trading sex for money was so distasteful to me.

"I am no doxy," thingy said, "but my daughter must eat and nobles get so lonely. I provide them with a pleasant diversion ."

"I thought we had something together," I said, a single opalescent tear sliding down my face. The elf shrugged and my heart broke for the second time in two days as she spoke.

"I thought you knew of my services, the only thing between us was business, which you now owe me the sum of one hundred and five sovereigns and twenty-eight silver."

Something inside me broke and my sorrow turned to anger. I balled up the so-called bill and threw it into the fire and picked up the first thing I could reach and threw it at the traitorous elf. It was a pretty flower vase which smashed into smithereens at her feet since I was far too delicate and womanly to have a good aim. The shameless harlot gave me a cold look and departed my room, muttering something about "crazy shemleth" whatever that was supposed to mean.

I burst into tears and briefly contemplated opening up my ivory arms and bleeding out my wounded heart's blood until I expired in an appropriately tragically and maidenly fashion and the world would weep at having lost me. Instead I opted to go into my en suite bathroom with the state of the art indoor plumping. I drew myself a bath instead of calling for a servant to do the arduous task for me, for I wanted no-one else to witness my humiliation. When the water from the solid gold taps had filled the marble tub with gold clawed feet, I threw handful after handful of rose petals into the hot water.

I sank into the blossom filled water with a grateful sigh and let the fragrant water lull away my heartache while I plotted my revenge against my former lovers. The elf lady whose name I couldn't recall would be easy to dispose of, I would just tell my father she was insolent and he would have her dismissed. Without a good reference from my father she would be unable to get another job and would have to become a common streetwalker to stop her and her bastard child from starving and it would serve them right too! But Dairren, Dairren would be harder to ruin, as a noble and a son of a noble he could not be so easily discredited. I needed an accomplice, an unwitting but pliable strong man who I could seduce into doing my bidding. I rubbed the flower petals all over my succulent curves while thinking of a possible candidate.

It was just about lunchtime when I emerged from my bath and contemplated today's armament. First I chose a black satin one-piece with peekaboo panels and lace edging, complete with a matching garterbelt. A pattern of single roses the colour of blood was embroidered all over this sexiest of gothic underwear. I wriggled into a pair of fishnet stockings before lacing my gothicly black velvet corset dress over my naturally wasp-waisted figure. It was a lovely dress, shockingly short, with lace net sleeves, black satin bows and three-layers of ruffles for a skirt. Again it was embroidered with blood roses and studded with tiny blood-red rubies. Finally I squeezed my tiny feet into a pair of darling lace up high-heeled boots with pointed toes and black lace inserts.

I brushed my sun-coloured rose-scented locks to a wild and wanton hive, all the better to play my tragic part. And then I took from my vanity the forbidden face paints that I was supposed to be too good of a girl to use. I used a little rouge to give my pearly pale skin a little more contrast, then I dabbed on a little dark eye shadow, but not too much because no matter how sadly tragic and heartbroken I was, it just wouldn't look good to have panda eyes at noon. What is a panda anyway and what is wrong with their eyes? My troubled thoughts ran very deep today. I then applied my mascara which was actually liquid, imported straight from Orlais, no more of that solid mascara that needed heating over a flame and had to be applied with the blunt end of a toothpick. No, this was some lyrium-enhanced beauty product that stayed liquid in the bottle, but clung to my lashes enough to give them some added womph. The same was true of my eyeliner, which I allowed myself a bit more of, because it really drew attention to the unspeakable heartache and sorrow that was reflected in my wounded emerald ocular orbs.

Once I was dressed the gong sounded for luncheon and prowled after my chosen prey.

#

I found Ser Gilmore in the pantry yelling at a large and fowl-smelling mongrel of a mabari mutt that was most definitely not mine. I grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at the dog, of course I missed, but the worthless woof-woof took heed of my ire and departed the pantry forthwith with much alacrity. This left me and my hapless target utterly alone in a small space, something that was both highly scandalous and entirely what I wanted.

Ser Roland Gilmore was not terribly important or rich, but he was deadly handsome, fanatically loyal and, most importantly, incapable of believing that women were anything but entirely innocent or sincere... both of which I was, of course. Like that vile deceiver of hearts Dairren, Roland was a red-head, but his hair was long and swept back dramatically and there was always one delightfully playful wisp of brave hair that escaped from being swept back with the rest. His dark eyes were bold and manly and as he fixed me with his penetrating gaze I felt my weak womanly knees quiver with both desire and intimidation.

This was the crucial moment and I had rehearsed it in my head a thousand times already. As his gaze roamed over the perfect planes of my complexion I let my composure slip. A distressed gasp escaped my lips and a my emerald eyes filled with unspilled tears. I'm sure I made the most beautiful tragic picture for Ser Gilmore's eyebrows thumped together in immediate concern.

"My Lady did that wild beast unsettle you?" he asked, his voice so noble and concerned that it brought another sob to vent unbidden from the rose petals of my lips.

"I-it w-was a b-beast that hurt me," I stammered, "b-but it was a b-beast in human shape."

"There's a were beast in the castle?" he exclaimed and reached for his sword.

"No, no!" I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, why were all men so cursedly literal? "T'was a man who hath wounded me so, my dear Ser, a beastly man who took my heart on false pretences!" I intoned so fervently, tears flying every which way, that the very passion of my heartfelt plea set his bottom lip atremble.

"Hush, hush," Ser Gilmore said, patting my hands as though he would comfort a child. "Whoever has hurt you, you need only tell your father and they will be banished from your sight."

"You don't understand, I cannot tell me father because... " I said as I looked deep into his chocolate eyes that looked really yummy, "because he... he took my..." I looked away as if too ashamed to continue. Ser Gilmore put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. "He took my flower, Roland," I whispered before dissolving entirely into tears and throwing my arms around him.

I cried into his shoulder which was not all that comfortable because he was wearing leather armour. I felt him hold me and pat my hair and say comforting little nothings like "there, there" and "we'll make it all better" and then, naturally, as my closeness would drive any true man wild with passion, his lips were kissing away my tears before they closed upon my own mouth. Wowsers if he wasn't a good kisser for all his noble intentions. No tongue though, but this was a man I could mould and teach such things.

Ser Gilmore broke away from me, panting in the ardour of his noble passion for me, no doubt. "Forgive my improper behaviour," he said, staring at the ceiling of the pantry rather than meet my gaze, "I was overcome by your woeful plight. I will go forth and dispatch the wretch that dared to violate your maidenhead, my dear. And, naturally, after committing a similarly scandalous action upon your holy lips, I will not allow your reputation to suffer... I will make an honest woman of you, my dearest Fanny."

I stared after him as he hefted his sword and left, I had solved my problems and gain one big dopey nobleman in the bargain. I certainly didn't want to marry someone so unimportant and not very wealthy. Whatever was I to do?


	4. Chapter 4: Mabari Style

I had no time to ponder the consequences of allowing Ser Gilmore to kiss me and thus sealing our accidental betrothal, for it twas time for luncheon and I had not yet graced my parents with my presence today. I went into the dining hall and sat down at the dining table, I was the last to the table and my mother gave me one of those looks that suggested she would be having Words with me later. Whatever, it's not like she could understand what I was going through.

"Ah, daughter, you join us at last," Father said, "meet our honoured guest: Duncan of the Grey Wardens." The man he introduced to me was middle-aged, dark and swarthy and wearing a battleskirt, but he was also devilishly handsome and obviously very physically fit. I dropped him a polite curtsey even though I knew Grey Wardens could not hold any title and were therefore not equals of any of the nobility. I saw Duncan's dark eyes momentarily flicker over my impressive cleavage, but if I had not been looking for it, his slight loss of propriety would have gone unnoticed. This was a man of strong self-control! And what a man, when compared with my unfortunate fiancé Ser Gilmore, he made the younger man seem all the more inconsequential.

Speaking of unfortunate fiancés, I noticed both Ser Gilmore and Dairren had not appeared for lunch and a slight twinge of apprehension went through my stomach, or perhaps I was just hungry, all that lesbian sex on an empty stomach was probably not good for me. It was not until I was politely slurping at my soup (cream of asparagus, expensively imported from Orlais) that the noises began. Our dining hall was directly below the sparring room and the sudden pounding of footsteps across our ceiling made it clear it was in use.

There was much shouting of oaths that my family tried to pretend they couldn't hear, but which were sufficiently loud, colourful and explicit enough that there was no doubt that they all knew what the fight was about and why it was happening. I flushed as I realised my entire family now knew that Dairren had deflowered me and that Ser Gilmore was my betrothed. Papa would be furious and mother would be disappointed, I daren't look at either of them. Fergus kicked me under the table and I fixed him with a cold gaze, but instead of derision he gave me a "thumbs up" sign. Ugh, my brother can be so tactless and so immature sometimes. I stuck my tongue out at him.

The oaths continued through our courses, but now there was also the clashing of steel on steel. They were using live blades, of that there could be no doubt! I gulped down my pheasant meat, realising that Ser Gilmore had been sincere in his pledge to slay Dairren. My heart beat in wild abandon, Ser Gilmore must care for me passionately as he was clearly laying into Dairren with all his strength. Perhaps I had underestimated him as a man, perhaps he was more worthy than I thought.

I felt my flush deepen as my body started to tingle with awareness, each panted shout from above sent a fresh wave of deepening arousal through me. I stared at the various foodstuffs on the table to distract myself from the raging tide of desire surging through me. It was now time for dessert and there were honeydew melons, banana splits nestling between two precise scoops of ice cream, chocolate éclairs oozing cream and (I fanned myself to see), spotted dick in custard!

The cries of exertion above us reached a crescendo just as I felt my precious fluid begin to drip forth from my secret garden of delights. There was a sudden scream and a very organic squishing noise, but fortunately no one noticed either of these things for they were lost in the agonising bellow that came from the room above. Someone had certainly achieved victory, I thought, squirming uncomfortably in my now too-wet under things. I wondered who had won, but curiously, the sounds from the room above did not stop. But now instead of oaths there was a curious noise that sounded like "omn nom nom nom nom", I couldn't fathom what this meant, but eventually this ceased too.

Utter silence rained down upon us as we finished eating. Then Ser Gilmore entered the room and my eyes grew large to see him, for his armour was covered with scratches and blood covered his face. My parents stared at him and Fergus developed a suspiciously timed coughing fit that made me want to dutchoven him later. Ser Gilmore bowed before the family before he knelt at my chair and took my hand.

"My dearest Fanny," he said, speaking earnestly and sincerely, the schmuck, "I have dispatched the foul fiend who forced himself upon you and I tore his still-warm heart from his chest and devoured it whole to demonstrate the depth of my purest love for you. And now I formally ask for your hand before your family and witnesses, please take me as your lord and master forever more."

In that awkward moment did the only sensible thing I could think of: I held my breath until I fainted.

#

In my dream I walked through a Technicolor field of roses, hand in hand with my one true love, whoever that was. I couldn't see their face, actually I couldn't see anything of them, not even enough to tell their gender. They walked on two legs and had a head, beyond that I knew nothing save that they were handsome and held the other half of my twin souls.

Then the dream shifted and my soul mate and I were both astride two glorious horses. Actually, not horses, I reluctantly corrected myself, much as it irked me to admit I was wrong, but these were no mere horses. The flesh of each ethereal beast was a burnished silver, their eyes were slits of pure emerald and their manes and tails were scintillating ever-changing rainbows of light. Oh yeah and they each had a horn rising from their equine heads.

It was then I heard my loved one speak, though later I would never be able to recall what their voice sounded like, only the words: "I'm on a horse." I immediately itched to correct them as it was almost insulting to call these noble unicorns horses but it was then the very fabric of the dream tore and I reluctantly awoke to find Ser Gilmore patting my hands.

I was on a couch in one of the spare rooms and sometime had obviously passed because Ser Gilmore had changed out of his armour into one of those dreadfully bright orange tunics that were really popular with the nobility lately, though I couldn't fathom why. He had also washed off the remnants of Dairren's lifeblood and so his handsomeness was now rather evident.

We were also completely alone.

"Are you alright now, my dear?" he asked me, still patting my hands. "You were whinnying in your sleep."

"Yes," I lied, "I'm fine, I was just... overwhelmed at the passion of your proposal."

"I thought so, while you were swooning I spoke to your father and given the circumstances he has given his blessing and I have agreed to take a reduced dowry for you because of what that varlot Dairren did to you. The wedding is set for two weeks hence, you will wear your mother's pearl necklace and I expect you to be pregnant with our first born son by the end of the season."

While Ser Gilmore's, or I suppose "Roland's" manly confidence was arousing, I was taken aback by his immediate assumption that my swooning was my way of consenting to our union. Worse, now that the match had been blessed by my father there was no way out of it without suffering a scandalous loss of reputation.

I was distracted from my tortured thoughts by the feel of Ser Gilmore's hand upon my ankle. For a man like Roland this was bold indeed, but of course he knew I was no longer a maid thanks to Dairren, and therefore there was no point staying chaste until our wedding night. "What charming stockings you wear," Roland said, tickling the bare skin displayed by my fishnets.

He bent over me and kissed my mouth as his hand inched its way up my leg until his bold fingers probed between my thighs. His other hand squeezed my rear before sliding up to the laces of my dress, his kisses never ceased as he undressed me and both his ardour and deft hands surprised me: For someone so dedicated to purity he certainly knew his way around ladies undergarments.

When I was wearing nothing but the sexy one piece and the fishnet stockings, Roland withdrew from me entirely. He left me panting for breath upon the pouch as he began to dance in front of me, shaking his noble behind for it was worth. He shed his shirt and slowly unbuttoned his pantaloons, gyrating his body in a way that made me wish I had some baby oil handy.

He slid off his pants and his "squire" sprang free from its nest of red hair to greet me, he was such a paragon of a man that he did not wear undergarments beneath his clothes. He drew me off the couch and undid the fastenings of my one-piece, his fingers circling around my sex, but maddeningly he did not delve them into me. I was still soaking wet and turned on from hearing his fight with Dairren earlier and certain secret parts of my body cried out to be touched.

My precious Rory pushed me down onto all fours and then I felt the tip of his "squire" press against my swollen lips and then he was inside me, riding me from behind. This position was very different from the clumsy lovemaking Dairren had given me and was much more forceful than the womanly caress of whatever that elf was called. Roland opened me and I took him deep, far deeper than I had been pierced before, yet there was no pain as he began to thrust in and out of me.

I began to yelp in pleasure as his thickness rubbed against some amazing place deep inside my magical love cavern. I felt Rory's hands reach around me as he fucked me hard and fast and then he his fingers were upon that little nubbin and my yelps turned into screams of pleasure. I felt my sex gush with fluid as the convulsions took me in wave after wave of unbearable pleasure. I was aware of the sounds our parts made as he buried his "squire" in me to the hilt, it was embarrassing but the squishing only enhanced my enjoyment.

He fucked me so hard that towards the end he was pushing my face into the pillows of the coach. It was hard for me to breath, especially as the never-ending orgasms stole all my breath for screams. It was almost a relief as Rory-poo finally shot his knighthood deep inside me and went limp. His body hit the pillows beside me and he was already snoring before I could put my dress back one. My man was definitely a one-horse race and once he'd passed the finish line nothing could drag him back to pole position.

I was getting dressed again when I heard a polite cough from the corner of the room.

It was Duncan and he'd been there the entire time!


	5. Chapter 5: The Deep Roads

Chapter Five: The Deep Roads

I stared at Duncan, my emotions cascading in a whirlwind of inner turmoil, all too aware that he had not only seen me naked, but had also been witness to Ser Snoring Lump here making love to me most ardently. He had seen my body stripped bare and all my modest inhibitions burned away in the tumultuous firestorm of orgasm. I felt my pale lily white skin surrender to the way of the red rose as I flushed hotly, yet in that most secret of secret places I was secretly thrilled to have been caught making love by this rascally scoundrel. It was not a thought I could admit to myself yet, even though my body knew the truth.

"Ser, you should have made your presence known!" I managed, feeling naked before his piercing gaze even though I had my sexy mini-dress with the ruffles on.

Duncan leered at me in such a way that I felt a queer pang of sensation rush across my delicate womanly parts. "I doubt you and your athletic young paramour would have heard me over your delirious music of love, my dear."

"Why you..." I racked my brain for the most insulting language I could think of, "why you gosh darned varlet!" I hissed in an angry whisper, not wishing to wake my slumbering Knight who would probably challenge Duncan to a duel for seeing us together and I'd had enough of duels to the death fought over me for a while. All the murdering was probably the reason why Ser Gilmore lacked so in stamina and was down for the count after only one bout of triple x wrestling.

"Such language!" Duncan, drawled, his voice dripping with both sex and sarcasm that made me shiver even as it angered me. "I doubt your precious Knight would like to hear such words usher forth from your sweet lips."

"You should not speak to me thus!" I snapped. "I am a noblewoman and a great lady and I am betrothed to Ser Gilmore."

Duncan laughed softly at me, never taking his eyes from me. "You, my dear, are no lady. No woman who has done what I have seen you do tonight can claim that lofty title."

I tried to slap him for insulting my virtue so, but he caught my wrist in his iron grip and pulled me up against him. "You do not wish to marry that yonder milksop," Duncan said, it was a statement not a fact. All my maidenly artifice was for nought before his piercing gaze, I would always be naked and transparent before him and, maker help me, I liked it. "He is a man with the ideals of a child, and a woman like you needs a real man to protect and guard her and to teach her the ways of loving."

"What I want is for nought," I said, "I am joined to Ser Gilmore by a promise that not even the King himself could sunder."

Duncan brought me closer, so that his lips were but scant inches from mine. "There is a way I could break you of your promised tryst with the limp boy child and claim you as mine."

"And what makes you think you are worthy of a Cousland's hand? Papa would never allow me to wed with a Grey Warden, for they have no rank or titles." I said, feeling his breath beat down upon my face, hot and lustful.

"I was not speaking of marriage, my lady and, well if I am not to your liking, I consort with many powerful men, I even have the ear of the King."

"And what would I do among the Grey Wardens? I am a high maintenance investment, I require many costume changes and lots of clean underwear, scented bubble baths and soft feather beds, luxuriant chocolates and foot rubs, all of which I can have here at a moment's notice."

"Allow me to convince you, you saucy wench," Duncan said, his lips curving into a cruel smile. Then he breached the last few inches between us and his lips were upon mine, his tongue invading the moat of my mouth, his hands assaulting the marble ramparts of my breasts. He delved greedily and deep, battening at my tonsils with his oral warrior while his hands made tortured prisoners of my nipples. He ripped my dress to fondle my breasts, but I was so overwhelmed by his masculine onslaught that I did not care. And I had been wearing the same outfit for two and a half chapters, so it was about time it went.

His hands caressed my bottom and before I knew it he had bared my sweet cheeks to the world, I had forgotten my sexy one-piece had a tear away panel! Duncan's strong fingers probed between my moist nether lips and I cried out in anticipation for the pleasure he was sure to give me.

But Duncan was a canny rogue and knew how to coax and tease a woman into a delirium of desire. Instead of letting me take my pleasure from his hands, Duncan only thrust his fingers into me enough for my love juices to make them deliciously wet. Then he snaked his fingers around my backside once more and before I realised what he was about to do, his clever hand was circling the other... hole.

Oh by the maker, what was he _doing?_

His free hand was abruptly on my mouth, stifling my scream of outrage and pleasure. The very act of being silenced sent my body into overload and it was all I could bear to close my eyes, so very aware of Duncan's fingers teasing where they most certainly did not belong. He worked his way into me and then one of digits was stretching me open with the most delicious friction that was only all the more precious for being so very wrong.

Duncan worked my sweet virgin ass until I was begging for more, more than his wriggling fingers deep inside me. If I hadn't been gagged my his large masterful hand, I would have screamed for him to put his affair in me, in any place he wanted. He grinned at me as I realised he was deliberately holding off my pleasure by his arts. I would not come until he allowed it and if I did not come soon I was sure I would die.

He let up on his grasp a little, so I was able to speak.

"Maker damn you," I whispered, as my body throbbed with unfulfilled need.

"Assent to being my mistress and I will let this sweet torment end," Duncan said, twitching his fingers inside me for emphasis.

My mind was instantly made up, whatever Duncan could offer me had to better than being trapped by the ridiculous oppressive life I was expected to live as a noble. It was so hard being rich and privileged, no one appreciated my rare beauty and cunning linguistic skills. Among the Grey Wardens I would surely shine like the beautiful jewel I was, and if I did not like life with the mysterious and swarthy rogue Duncan, why I could go anywhere I wanted unchallenged.

"I will consent to whatever it is you demand of me," I said, in a breathless whisper, pouting my fully lips and tossing my still wild hair, "only cease this torment."

Duncan laughed to himself quietly and withdrew from me entirely. He licked the fingers that had been in places I wasn't supposed to think about. I waited for him to finish what he awoke in me, but he did nothing, what a cruel, cruel man he was.

"You aren't going to finish this are you?" I whispered.

"You begged for me to stop, milady" he drawled, "you said nothing about bringing you to climax. If you are so desperate then paw yourself, or perhaps you should wake your pillow knight and see if he is recovered enough for another bout?"

I knew Duncan could rouse feelings in me that Ser Gilmore never could and that he knew it too. I wanted his touch now and, Maker forgive me, I was willing to follow him and be nothing but his doxy to attain it.


	6. Chapter 6: Arrival at Ostagar

Once and I had cleaned up and changed my clothes the planning for our journey was swiftly settled, Duncan wrote a simple missive to my father explaining how he had seen special skills within me and conscripted me into the Grey Wardens. I packed a few dozen outfits with matching accessories and talked Duncan into buying a pack mule to carry them. My current outfit was rather plain by my standards as it needed to be practical for travelling. It was a sky blue silk dress with a tightly fitted bodice that matched, studded with only the occasional jewel and a matching blue cloak lined with matching soft nug fur and a matching pair of blue travelling boots also lined with matching nug fur and matching blue underwear with fluffy bits that matched.

We stole away in the quiet of the night and Duncan saddled his horse before mounting up and pulling me into his arms. I had learned to ride a little, but only side-saddle and trapped between Duncan's mighty arms and the horse's neck I felt rather precarious. The saddle horn also rubbed against me in an interesting manner that grew to be a delicious torment as the hours passed.

Duncan talked to me as we rode into the night as the mighty hooves of his stallion made the miles disappear behind us like butterflies on the wind, but I did not hear a word he said, lost as I was to the delirium of ecstasy in his strong arms. I remembered the dream that I had dreamt when I dreamt it, riding on horseback alongside my soul mate. Was it possible that Duncan was my soul mate? He was certainly a man any woman might dream of loving, but he held onto me like property and sought to break me to his will. That was why I was riding between his caressing but controlling arms, not astride my own steed. My soul mate would not seek to own me or dominate me, I knew this in the very core of my being.

But I had thrown my entire life away for the pleasure this man had denied me and cast myself entirely into his power, he would be able to do anything he wished with me and I would not be able to defend myself against his erotic onslaught. I had to trust him to keep his word and deliver me to a life better than the one I had given up for him.

When he stopped for the night, at an inn somewhere on the North Road called "The Spotted Mabari", Duncan paid for out room with the money I had given him and ushered me past the assorted clientele with a huge grin upon his face. I kept my hood up, for it would not do for the youngest of the Couslands to be recognised going to a tavern room with a man who was most certainly not her betrothed.

When we were alone in the room Duncan ordered me to strip immediately and I did not dare defy him. He liked the fluffy bits on my underwear and toyed with them for a while before stripping me completely bare. He stroked my soft alabaster skin with his strong dark hands, teasing my rosy nipples before throwing me down upon the bed. I was already wet, for this was what I craved, his strength, his passion, oh when would he strip down and push his hard proud warrior into my aching womanhood?

Yet Duncan did not take off any of his clothes, instead his hands were busy rolling me over and there was a sudden metallic clanking. Before I realised what he was about Duncan had shackled my wrists to the bedposts and I was chained face-down and fully nude, a prisoner of his desires. I struggled against the chains even though I knew it was futile as I felt Duncan's demanding hands pry apart my buttocks.

His fingers were as pirate invaders demanding entrance to my secret treasure cove to plunder the hidden treasures within. I could no more refuse him entrance than I could stop breathing and the friction from his writhing fingers inside the tight ring of my rear portal was an insistent delicious torment. I thrashed about as much as I could in my chained position, moaning loudly into the pillows beneath my face. And although I could not see Duncan's face, or indeed any other part of him, I could _feel_ his malicious grin burning my shamefully bared cheeks.

It was then he removed his fingers from my back passage and replaced them with a loving lash of something hot and wet. I squealed with protest as I realised it was his tongue, Duncan was licking me in the most forbidden of places! His tongue swirled around my tight nether star and forced its way in and out as I squealed with indignant pleasure. Duncan grasped my buttocks with both hands and thrust his tongue inside as far as it would go.

I felt his beard rub against my neglected womanhood and I ground my groin against his chin, my fluids no doubt soaking his magnificent beard. I felt the weight of my growing desire set my sex afire, but the stimulation Duncan was giving me wasn't quite enough. My body throbbed with my need for release, but Duncan was deaf and blind to my desperate cries for mercy.

He brought me to the brink of what would have been a phenomenal climax if he had not ceased to touch me in the very instant I would have exploded with sensation. Instead he laughed cruelly while my furious desire slowly died within me. I didn't understand why he refused to fuck me, wasn't I beautiful and sexy and willing to be his slave?

He didn't unshackle me either, and I was forced to sleep while still chained facedown to the bed. Every night on the road was like that, if there was no inn available, Duncan would tie me to a tree instead. He never once penetrated me with his manhood and barely touched me anywhere but that sensitive pucker. He never once let me have release, so my days and nights bled together in an unending agony of unfulfilment. Duncan was canny to my situation too and he never let me have a moments peace or privacy, knowing that I would paw myself to orgasm if I was allowed out of his sight.

We arrived at Ostagar one grey morning at the end of our uneventful journey. I had begun to regret my decision to leave with Duncan, for he had proved to be a demon in human flesh, to tease a simple girl so! But here at last I would be among many strong and important men, perhaps I would be able to find one who would satisfy me instead of filling my body with loving, but cruel longing, never to be fulfilled. As Duncan dismounted from his horse and pulled me out of the saddle after him, I wondered again if his decision to refuse me satisfaction stemmed from an inability to perform, or if he simply was that cruel. One night I had attempted to anger him into losing control, but he had only laughed at my transparent attempts to provoke him and he had gagged me with a silk scarf instead.

Duncan led me across the ruins of Ostagar and I wondered at the mighty towers thrusting skywards, the flying buttresses in particular filled me with a sense of joy and sadness to see how such mighty architectural strength was slowly being reclaimed by the wilds. I felt Duncan tug meaningfully on my elbow to get my attention and I saw that there was oh my gosh a very completely handsome man approaching us. He was tall with long flowing romantic locks of golden hair that was almost as beautiful as mine, but not quite. With a face that looked like it had been carved by angelic spirits out of the finest white marble, yet all this delicate beauty was balanced with obvious great strength and a wide frame that rendered him utterly masculine instead of being some silly wussie pretty boy. His fine frame was covered in armour of a golden hue, his breastplate decorated with the head of dragon and he greeted Duncan with the ease of familiarity.

Duncan clasped hands with the fine man and it was then I glimpsed a tiny gold circlet hiding within the golden locks. I realised with a pleasant shock that this hunk of burning manhood that I beheld before me was none other than my King. I quickly spread my rather dusty skirts and bobbed down in a most elegant curtsey that made my bosom heave in a most charming fashion. I saw King Cailan's eyes linger on my curves as he took my hand and pressed a light but ardent kiss upon my fingers.

"Duncan, I swear you have recruited Andraste herself!" the King said, not letting go of my hand. "Does the Maker know you have plundered his bride from his Holy City to grace our tawdry battlefield with her glorious presence?" I knew Duncan had claimed me as his mistress, but I could not help giving the King a sensual pout and a knowing glance as he at last reluctantly relinquished his grasp upon my dainty hand. Duncan all but dragged me into a nearby tent and tossed my fair behind into a pile of soft cushions that covered the floor.

"Maker's breath, but you are a fast worker my dear!" he exclaimed while pouring himself a glass of wine from a nearby silver service. "Only met the King a moment ago and already he is half-dead with love for you, he usually reserves the word 'glorious' for us Wardens."

"Surely you're not jealous?" I asked teasingly, wishing he would offer me some wine and knowing he wouldn't. "I thought you brought me here to introduce me to men such as the King."

Duncan's strong hands were suddenly about my throat, he squeezed me tightly but for a moment before letting me go, but it was enough to make his point. He was the one in control here, not me, even though admitting it rankled me. I swore that once I was free from his oh so sweet prison, I would never allow myself to fall into the power of a man again, I would be the mistress of my own destiny.


	7. Chapter 7: A Royal Well Come

"You would do well to hold your tongue, wench!" Duncan said to me after he had squeezed my throat in warning, his hands now trailing over one of my perfectly shaped breasts with a proprietary air.

"Take your hands off me, you jealous fool!" I snarled at Duncan who, most amazingly, did indeed relinquish his greedy grasp upon me.

"One glance from the golden Adonis of our King and you are already tired of me? Is there anything more constant that the fickle nature of women?"

"You and he are very different," I said, "but you are both pleasing to the eye."

"I'm glad you think so milady," Duncan said with mock gallantry, toying with his wine glass, "for tonight he beds here with us."

"What do you mean?" I asked, wondering why on Thedas the King would want to sleep in our tent.

"I'm surprised you had not heard the gossip about Cailan, but I suppose Highever is a long way from Denerim and you have been kept more or less sheltered by your family." Duncan stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"What gossip?" I asked innocently, wishing he would speak plainly.

"Why that Cailan draws no line between his friends and his lovers: To know him is to bed him, my dear."

I stared at Duncan, not understanding what he was talking about. Then I remembered my brief love affair with the elven woman and I flushed, realising that two men could probably do similar things together. With their thingies. And maybe putting their thingies in certain places. Suddenly Duncan's particular interest in my uh... rear entrance made a lot more sense.

"I guess you won't be needing my services tonight then," I muttered, inspecting my nails.

"Oh now who is jealous?" Duncan teased, slapping my backside with one large hand. Oh, how that stung! "You will not be neglected tonight my dear, not after all the work I did upon getting you to this state." He briefly ran his fingers across my clothed but swollen sex to prove his point, eliciting a tiny moan from me.

"But if you are to lie with King Cailan what is there for me to do?"

Duncan laughed at me. "You are so wanton in your approach to lovemaking that I forget you are still very much an innocent in the many ways of loving! I do not think I will ruin the surprise by enlightening you any further."

And he would tell me nothing more on the subject, and of course Duncan was immune to all my womanly wiles. The wait for sunset was maddeningly slow, I felt like my body was going to explode from all my pent up passion, arousal and speculative curiosity. What could there be between two men and one fabulous woman that Duncan wouldn't tell me about? And why was he so amused?

Under Duncan's watchful eye I was allowed to bathe myself with tepid water and a sponge, but he made sure my hands did not linger in any of the places I longed to be touched. Duncan looked over the various outfits I had brought with me and selected an off the shoulder sheath dress in dark rose satin and, at his insistence, no underwear or shoes at all. I was to wait upon the King's pleasure barefoot and easily accessible, whether I wanted it or nay.

When the deep dark had fallen across the camp, the King came into our tent unannounced. He had cast aside his shiny armour for a long pale yellow tunic and breeches, thankfully much more tasteful in colour than some of the other things nobles were seen wearing at the moment. Duncan bid me welcome Cailan to his tent and I curtseyed before him, before pouring him his wine.

He drank deeply of the cup, not taking his eyes off my face for one moment and I felt myself flush to be the object of such scrutiny from my King of all people! With deliberate slowness he set the cup down upon the table and reached out to me with his hand. His regal fingers brushed against my soft rosy cheek and I caught my breath, holding my body perfectly still because I did not know how to react.

"Hark at that, with one touch from you she is almost swooning!" Duncan drawled. "If I had done that she would spitting hellfire at me by now, the wench is like an ever-changing sea."

Cailan's thumb brushed my lips ever so gently as he brought me closer to him. "Such a sweet-faced recruit you have brought to me," he muttered, his eyes lingering on my lips as his hand trailed down to trace the lines of my throat.

"She seems sweet," Duncan said while I was still trying to find my voice, "but there is the spirit of a demon dwelling beneath all that milky white skin."

"Then I perhaps I should not kiss you?" Cailan said, looking into my eyes once more. "Perhaps you will ensnare my senses and drag me under your thrall."

"You will forever dream of kissing my lips and their sweetness if you do not, my lord," I said, desperate for someone to actually touch me rather than just tease me.

"Ahh, I see milady has a sweet tongue to go with her looks," Cailian said, "all the better for the tasting." He leaned down towards me and suddenly pulled me to him so I was plastered against his broad chest. His kiss was intense and tasted of wine and honey. His enthusiasm for living life to its fullest radiated through his lips and tongue until I was full of his energy and exuberance. I tightened my arms around his wide manly shoulders and returned his kisses with all the passion I could muster.

The pent up energy Duncan had been deliberately building within me had the King panting for breath. He reluctantly pulled away from my passionate embrace and gasped for air. "Sweet Andraste!" he cried, his chest heaving, "what a wonder you have found for me." I almost frowned, why was he praising Duncan for finding me, instead of praising my own skills?

"I saw her, plucked her and kept her ripe for you my Lord," Duncan said, coming up behind Cailan and stroking the back of the King's neck in much the same way Cailan had touched my face. Cailan moaned at Duncan's touch, a sound that made the throbbing parts of my body throb harder. As Duncan started to kiss and lick the back of Cailan's throat with a tenderness I had never seen in him before, I started to understand what Duncan and Cailan planned for me to do that night.

Seeing that Duncan had most of Cailan's attention for the moment, I decided to rightfully redirect him back to lavishing me with his exuberant passion. I snaked my hands up and down the King's chest, stroking his muscles and pulling at his tunic so I could touch the wonderful firmness of his skin. He yelped without much dignity as I slid my hands inside his breeches. Cailan's lips were on mine again as both Duncan and I slowly stripped him between the two of us.

His body was like a work of godly art in pale golden marble, too perfect to be real. The King's engorged sex sprung free with an almost audible joy when it was released from its silken prison, it was eager for the both of us, woman and man.

Suddenly Cailan bore me down unto the cushions, his body falling over mine, deliciously heavy but completely immovable. His hands torn the sheath of satin from my anxious curves and my naked breasts spilled out. The King completely ignored Duncan and lavished all his glorious passion on the rosy nubs of my twin chest orbs. I sobbed with need and pent up pleasure, begging for the King to be kind to me and end the cruelty Duncan had started so long ago.

Cailan sat back upon his heels and spread my legs with his hands, as if to inspect the condition of my womanhood. I know I needed no further foreplay and wished he would just take me already. I thrust my groin towards him and at last he grasped his large Kinghood and guided it to the glistening seat of my love throne. I took him into me with a cry of perfect joy for to be finally penetrated properly instead of via Duncan's preferred method and with a large organ of Kingly virility instead of only fingers felt so good I knew I couldn't last and the that throes of lovemaking would take me to the brink of madness.

The King having now seated himself upon my throne, wrapped my legs about his neck, lifted his hips and thrust into me as far as he could go. I cried out as he went so deep that I expected the gloriously round head of his thick love sceptre to erupt within my throat at any moment. Over Cailan's straining shoulder, I saw Duncan watching us with an expression of pure naked lust. It was then, watching Duncan strip down fully for the first time, while the King fucked me, that I understood something of the nature of their relationship: Duncan found his pleasure not in women, but in the King's own joy.

Duncan's body was thicker set and much darker that the King's pale golden glory, but they were both beautiful in their own way. I gasped when I saw the monster that was Duncan's swarthy love sausage, for it was the largest I had ever seen, and so thick it no doubt dwarfed my slender wrists. Duncan was preparing himself, oiling up his member with something sweet-smelling from a bottle when my first orgasm broke upon me without warning.

I cried out and raked Cailan with my nails as I convulsed around his mighty rod of passion. It was then Duncan knelt behind Cailan who was still thrusting into me for all he was worth. I could not see what Duncan did, but it was Cailan who cried out at the Warden's entrance into our three-part play of lust. Cailan's body stiffened in a mix of pleasure and pain as Duncan no doubt slammed his huge organ deep into his King's crown. But then Cailan began to thrust into me again, twice as hard and fast as before, his rhythm the opposite of Duncan's, so that when Duncan thrust into his King, Cailan was withdrawing from my honey soaked passage.

Having the King sandwiched between my own sexy self and my Master was intensely hot, it fuelled the fire in my orgasms. I wondered what it felt like to be Cailan in that moment, to be filled by Duncan's massive meat even as he pounded himself deep inside me. I screamed my pleasure as I felt Cailan beginning to shudder and spurt inside me, filling my deep love cavern with his royal seed.

But even this did not end my pleasure as amazingly Cailan and Duncan were not yet done with me. They both withdrew and then before I knew it, Duncan pushed me on to my knees and began to open up my rear portal with his fingers as he had done many times before on the journey here. I realised what he was about to do and was about to protest when I felt the head of his great member stretching my tight little hole. I blushed with shame as Duncan took me like a boy, using my copious womanly fluids to slowly open my passage for his giant sex. It hurt a little, but to be took that way was more shocking than painful.

Cailan watched as Duncan sank into me by inches and his once-spent mighty rod slowly began to recover until the King was fully erect once more. He slid underneath my bowed body and kissed away the tears of shame that had trickled out of my eyes. His lips were upon mine again and his passion helped me distance the embarrassment of what Duncan was doing to me. Beneath me he crooked his body and then I felt him slip inside my wet tunnel of love again. I had two men inside me at once!

They used me to express their love between each other, as though our sex was a language and their cocks were speaking in tongues. I could not take so much pleasure, being held between two such great men and their passion for each as well as my womanly self filled me to the brim. They both came within me at the same instant and I felt the various fluids pouring out of both my lovingly abused entrances.

Exhausted and spent the two men curled around me, my body a pillow between them as we drifted off to sleep, bathed in a glorious afterglow of the purest love.


	8. Chapter 8: General Punishment

I awoke sometime later, still curled between the two beautiful men: One dark and as cruel a demon, the other a golden angel, tender and pure. Together the dusky and golden hues of their skin along with my perfect paleness made a beautiful picture among the pillows. They were both fast asleep as I carefully extricated my body from their slumbering grasps and pried Duncan's possessive hand from my buttock cheek.

My gaze fell upon the face of my beloved King, perfect in his regal repose, his hair in slight disarray, his top lip faintly curling as he breathed. I remembered the dream of my soul mate and looked at Cailan anew with the eyes of my inner self. If Cailan was the One I was destined to be with my life would be greatly improved. While it was true that he already had a wife, his presence here in Duncan's arms showed that marriage had not inhibited his desires for others any.

I daydreamed myself into Cailan's life, imagining being on his strong arm and being whirled around in a never-ending assortment of gorgeous outfits. Dressing, undressing, wearing exciting underwear... I was so taken with my fantasy of being the King's mistress that I could not help myself and pressed my ardour-swollen lips against his regal mouth.

And I felt nothing. There was no special spark of knowing between our mouths and Cailan did not even stir in his sleep. I pouted sadly to myself, Cailan could certainly not be my destined twin soul if I could not rouse him with a single kiss! But then if he had been mine I would have had to share him with Duncan, his Queen and the Kingdom and my One True Love should be able to devote himself to me utterly, a beauty such as I deserved nothing less! Such a pity, because Cailan was the most powerful man in Ferelden and rather nomworthy to look upon.

Or was he?

I recalled where I was, within the King's battle camp, where the greatest men of the land were preparing themselves to fight the blight. Oh yes, the taint of the dark spawn that threatened the whole of the land, I had forgotten about it as it was only natural that matters of the heart were more important to me. Duncan and Cailan were arguably two of the most important men on the field, but there was another... the King's general... if only I could recall his name.

I picked out a dress in lilac satin with little pink silk roses made into frog buttons that marched from the high neck collar all the way down to my waist. It had long floaty sleeves and an overskirt made from lavender netting, all of which were weighted with tiny seed pearls to make them hang properly. Underneath this I wore a lilac brassier also embroidered with seed pearls, matching high leg knickers and pale purple stockings held up by a matching garter belt that matched. I covered my glorious lilac beauty in a dark cloak, for it would not do for me to be seen by common soldiers ignorant of fine things and be mistaken for some kind of doxy.

I was trying to recall the General's name as I walked through the pitched tents. I knew he had done something with King Maric, but that was all ancient history. It was like, before I was even born, so couldn't possibly be important. Loghain, that was his name, I think... and he was common born! I pursed my pert lips in distaste at the thought, but he was nobility now, at least.

I found the second biggest tent in the camp, which was actually right next to Duncan's, it had just taken me awhile to work out which ones were small and which ones were far away. I tried to enter the tent as was stopped by a big burly guard, but I blinked my big baby blues at him in a wanton fashion and he immediately let me pass. As if I would condescend to spend my affections on a lowly guard!

Inside the tent the majority of space was taken up by a huge map of Ostagar and the surrounding wilds, as accurate a map of the constantly shifting swamp wilds could be, anyway. It was huge and so detailed it almost made me feel like a very pretty giantess looking down at the land from a great height. At the other side of the map table from him was a man clad in heavy armour, a small figure in each hand. His hair was long and dark, but also rather lank, his skin pale but unhealthy looking, not pearlescent like mine. His eyes were sunken and reddened from lack of sleep, yet in them burned a curious frenzied fire. I sure hoped he had a wonderful personality.

My attentions were drawn to the figures in his hands, one was that of an ogre, the other a man in shiny golden armour with long lustrous hair. Loghain smashed the ogre into to the man and laughingly cried "Pew pew, you're dead now golden boy!" apparently oblivious to my entrance.

I was not going to be ignored in favour of some cheap toys, so I cleared my throat in a polite ladylike way. Loghain jumped up at the sound and threw the two figures down on to the floor and pretended he hadn't been doing whatever it was he had been doing with them. His expression of embarrassment disappeared when he saw the mysterious cloaked creature that had entered his tent. But before I could make introduce myself Loghain closed the distance between us and suddenly drew his sword.

I gulped in maidenly dismay as Loghain pointed his huge naked weapon at my throat. We hadn't even been introduced! "What are you, another Orlesian assassin come to try my might?" Loghain rasped. His rough voice caressed my soul like sandpaper, but in a good way. I shuddered, the combination of the threats of violence and his manliness had me all a quiver. I hoped at least this paragon of manly men didn't prefer other men.

Loghain thrust back the hood of my cloak with a strong calloused hand and my sun coloured locks fell out. "You are no Orlesian!" Loghain cried, tearing my cloak from me, revealing my lilac loveliness. Yet his weapon did not falter, and stayed pointing straight up at my throat.

"Ser, I am a Ferelden noblewoman, of the house of Cousland," I said.

"Oh you are that Grey Warden recruit Cailan was going gaga for," he muttered, dropping his sword from my throat at last. "What business can you have with me, dolled up like that?"

"Duncan is a cruel master and I wish to escape his grasp," I said. "He and the King would rather consort with each other as lovers than to get with this glorious booty." I ran a hand over my modest curves and did a little bump and grind with my hips to illustrate my point.

Loghain was a strong-willed man, but he was only human. He shifted uncomfortably in his armour and I was sure that it was his other weapon becoming primed and ready for combat that was the cause. I ran my hands over his breastplate, liking the sound my nails made against the hard metal.

"You are a bold wench," Loghain said, his mouth twitching into a wry smile, "but this is not the time to be forging alliances." He sheathed his sword and swept his arm across the room, indicating the giant map. "This is a time of war, we must be every ready to fight off the Orlesian blight!"

"Umm," I ummed, "don't you mean Dark Spawn blight?"

"This is not a true blight," Loghain said in a rather patronising manner, "Cailan wants to take his toys and Grey Warden playmates and dream himself into a fairytale of old."

"You think him a fool," I said.

"He is a very young man."

"But virile," I purred, "and athletic."

"I am both of those things too," Loghain said, curtly, "I am also old enough to be your father."

I pouted at him and Loghain took off both his gauntlets and let them drop to the floor. I soon realised why as he grabbed me and threw me over his bent knee. I squealed and kicked as my lilac underwear was put on display. Loghain took no notice of my protests and began to spank me with his bare hand. Each painful smack was slow and deliberate and it took me a while to realise that despite the pain, I was enjoying myself.

The sound of Loghain's breathing changed, becoming more intense and the nature of his punishment changed: He slipped his hands inside my underwear and pulled it down and began to spank my bare buttock until they glowed in rosy hue. Each slap was punctuated with a squeeze of my round and now sore ass. I knew I was wet and my fluid flowing and Loghain had obviously noticed as he began to scissor his fingers inside me between his loving spanks.

I cried in pain, shame and confused desire and then Loghain stopped his cruel loving. He put me right side up and looked at me, tears sliding down my face, my underwear pooling around my ankles. Loghain made a grumbling noise and kissed me on the forehead. That curious burning look in his eyes was strong again and my breath caught in my throat as he kissed my pouting lips. His kiss was forceful but almost delicate. He lifted me off my unsteady feet and swept me down onto his map, sending tiny little figures or men, mabari and Hurlocks flying. I think I was lying on a few rather pointy spearman, but I didn't dare complain.

Loghain stripped me nude, lilac netting flying everywhere, then he looked down at me spread across his battle plan as if he would mount a battle campaign to conquer me. He removed only the codpiece of his armour and showed me the deadly length of his weapon, which was indeed primed and ready to do battle. His hands scouted the lay of my lands, easily finding the hidden target buried in the tree line of my crotch. I gasped as his fingers touched me in ways none of my previous lovers had even attempted, suddenly Loghain's experience mattered more to me than his lack of good locks.

He waged war upon me with his hands, desperate to possess the mountains of my breasts and the valley between my thighs. My troops fell under his mighty assault as he conquered me, he thrust his weapon inside my fortress and breached against my slick walls. Each thrust slayed me with its deadly potency, each bringing him closer to a flawless victory. I lost count of the times I cried out in utter decimated pleasure, but I know it was far more times than ever before. Triumphant, Loghain cried out as his pearly white troops finally spilled out of him infiltrating deep within my inner sanctum.

"How dreadful," a woman's voice said behind us, "such shocking behaviour!"


	9. Chapter 9: Going for a Wynne

I cried out in surprise and shock as Loghain rolled off me, his now flaccid weapon flopping obscenely around. "Madam," he said to the intruder, "what a General does in his own tent is his own business."

"Oh I wasn't referring to you, dear," the newcomer said as I tried to cover my moist and dripping nudity. "I was referring to this unskilled doxy here."

I uttered an outraged shriek and turned to face the woman who had maligned me so cruelly. She was an utterly ancient crone who was easily in her fifties at least, like totally over the hill. Her white hair was secured in a horribly sensible and practical hair style, though her curiously smooth skin had been decorated with subtle makeup. I don't know why she bothered, she was clearly past being of interest to anyone, especially when there were hot young things like me around.

I noticed she was wearing some robes and had a big stick strapped across her back, was it possible this old shrew was a mage? I thought mages were eternally young and beautiful, I mean what was the point of having magic if you got ugly and old like normal people? That was a sobering thought, was it possible I too would one day get old and wrinkled too? Ugh, why was life such a torture? It was like my discovery that chocolate made me put on weight all over again. Err, not that I ever put on weight, of course, I was naturally slender and voluptuous at the same time.

Loghain laughed at my outrage and puzzlement, making me shudder with anger and swallow my angry words before they bubbled forth from my lips in a torrent of witty prose. I drooled at little by accident as I silenced myself, but I caught it so it totally didn't count. "Senior Enchanter Wynne, what brings you to my tent?" Loghain asked the old hag, rather casually considering he had his floppy old cock out. I wasn't surprised to learn that the old bat was a Senior Enchanter, you couldn't get more senior than she was without falling to bits I'm sure!

"I came to enquire whether you would need the services of one of our Tranquil tonight," Wynne said, "but I see you found something else to warm your bed."

"One of the Tranquil might have been better, they can at least take orders," Loghain drawled, "this one wants to wage war when she doesn't know how to hold a weapon."

"Yes, I saw," Wynne said, casting her eyes over my curves disdainfully. "I don't know what they are teaching young nobles these days, I really don't."

"Perhaps you could endeavour to instruct the lady in the correct methods?" Loghain asked.

"Well normally I wouldn't take on a new student on the eve of battle," Wynne said, "but this is clearly a sexual emergency." Wynne nodded her assent to the deal and threw her smelly old cloak over my perfect nudity.

Before I knew what was happening to me the old lady had led me into the mages' camp and into another tent, much smaller and less grand than the two I had been in earlier. Wynne flicked her wand around and conjured a stool out of thin air. She bid me stand upon the stool and tore the cloak away from me so she could have a good luck at me. "Among my other duties at the circle I train women to be concubines, because skills of seduction and pleasure are very important to mages, if only because most Templars are men and deprived of pleasure."

Wynne pursed her lips, wrinkled her nose, and flicked her wand again. I was suddenly soaked with a torrent of ice-cold water that disappeared before it hit the floor. Another flick of the wand and I was dry, my hair curling up nicely into amazing sunny ringlets. I pouted and smouldered my eyes at Wynne for this embarrassing treatment.

Wynne ignored my wanton surly expression and pinched my thigh with her bony hand. "A little bit of baby fat left, but enough exertion in the Andraste Riding position should get those legs tightened up nicely," Wynne said, apparently to her crazy old self. She pried open my mouth and looked at my teeth and told me I needed to learn to floss, whatever that meant.

She snapped on a pair of very thin gloves and parted my white young thighs with her hands. She probed gently inside me in a very businesslike way before withdrawing the gloved finger in a way that was completely devoid of sensuality. Wynne smelled her finger and looked interested. "You have had six sex partners... five men and one woman... who was also elven. You have also have been entered via the rear portal, ooh err missus." She frowned and looked at me again: "Amazing that you could have slept with that many people and still have learned nothing."

I tried to protest that I was already a great adept at the ways of loving, after all I had bedded a Grey Warden, a King and his General all in the same night and the night was far from over, but the words stuck in my throat. More of her fiendish magic, I was sure! I settled for pouting harder and tossing my head in an impetuous manner, as a little more drool escaped from my lips, to show how spirited I was, or something.

"Still," Wynne said, "you are yet young and of noble blood, it's not too late. You're not much to work with, but honey I've seen worse, I'm going to turn this sow's ear into a silk purse!" I wondered why Wynne suddenly started speaking in rhyme, but she had me off the stool before I could think. Another flick of her wand and the room went dark.

The next thing I knew I was sitting at a desk in a school room, wearing nothing but a big pink frilly apron. Wynne was at the front of the class room wearing those new fangled eyeglasses, a pair of fishnet stockings with black stiletto-heel shoes and absolutely nothing else. Her body was far younger and firmer looking than I would have thought: her bosoms were round and high and her oddly hairless sex was almost as smooth and tight as mine. Maybe getting old wasn't so bad if it meant you could still look that good wearing very little and could command the respect of important people like Loghain.

Wynne was holding a ruler and tapping it at different diagrams that flashed around her at lightning speed. I felt knowledge being forcibly pushed into my brain whether I wanted to learn it or not. Suddenly I knew the correct names for things that had always been erotically vague before and I flushed at the new knowledge. The other desks in the class rooms were filled with similarly dressed maidens who flushed at the anatomical diagrams Wynne displayed. I wondered if there was another magic class room somewhere for the men. Men. In pink aprons. And nothing else.

My eyes had obviously glazed over because Wynne was suddenly calling my name and pointing her ruler at me. Only now I saw the ruler was also some kind of fake thingie, or, as the education I was receiving corrected me, it was a larger than life replica of the male genitalia in a turgid state, for the purposes of sexual pleasure, commonly referred to as a dildo. Wynne chided me for thinking about sex in her sex ed. class and put a dunce hat on my head. A sexy dunce hat, of course.

Then she tossed the dildo at me and I caught it with my trembling hands. "Now," Wynne said, regarding me over her sexy specs, "show us what you have learned." I looked back at her, not quite understanding what she wanted from me. "The dildo will gauge your performance and share it with the class," Wynne said as a lighted candle appeared above my head. The Fade was sure weird!

I grasped the dildo firmly between my hands and found to my surprise that it grew warm as began to stroke it. Wynne and the rest of the class gasped as the colour of the dildo deepened from pink to puce and the thick head turned purple. I smiled as my hands gripped and twisted around the fake member with a skill and dexterity I had not possessed before this class.

Some of the other girls in the class could not contain the pleasure they felt through the magic dildo and began to fondle themselves, and in one case, each other. Wynne shrugged as the two girls kissed deeply, their tongues touching each other in a pretty delicate way. Apparently impromptu lesbian sex counted as a passing grade in the class too, whatever.

I started to suck the dildo, first teasingly then taking the length of the thick faux phallus into my mouth. I relaxed my jaw and allowed it to thrust deep within my throat until my lips touched the base of the large cock. The classmates were shrieking in delight by this time and Wynne herself was looking a little flushed in her ladyparts, that is to say her sexual organs were being coloured from increased blood flow.

I withdrew the dildo from my mouth slowly and sensually. I teased my audience by rubbing the head of it on my visibly erect nipples through the fabric of the apron.

"Stop!" Wynne cried, panting with longing. "You have more than made the passing grade, but would you like some... extra credit?"

"Well," I purred, "if it means I get a good reference then sure!"

Wynne flicked her wand again and the throbbing magic dildo in my hand suddenly lengthened rapidly, becoming twice its former length at the fullest. I stared at the double-ended phallus as my newly augmented brain informed me of Wynne's desire.

"Woah," I said, "I know sex fu!"

Wynne groaned, clearly with desire and grabbed the dual-ended dildo. She parted her lavender labia and pushed one end of the deep purple love toy inside her with little effort. Experience and my earlier rousing performance meant she could take it all the way without further warm-up. She looked at me with twin-fires of lust burning in her eyes and tore the apron from me, eager to devour my rosy nipples with the beast of her heat-filled mouth.

I was overwhelmed by the passionate onslaught the older woman unleashed upon me as she pushed me to the ground, she had clearly underestimated my sexiness. Wynne knew far more about women's bodies than most men and her talented fingers coaxed me to a pleasure so intense I passed out, the very Fade vibrating with our womanly passion and my screams of pleasure scorched the very walls of the Black City with their volume.

I came back to myself as Wynne began to thrust into my slick vaginal passage, the flared head of the throbbing magical dildo rubbed against various sensitive places as Wynne thrust against me. It had been a long time since I'd been with another woman, not that that elvish tart really deserved the title, but sex with Wynne was nothing like anything else I had experienced.

Unlike having sex with men, who would usually roll over after only giving me six or seven orgasms and instantly fall asleep, the selfish brutes, the limits of our womanly lovemaking were limited only by our endurance and, for such an old lady, Wynne's stamina was seemingly limitless. She pounded me through the very substance of the Fade, until we were falling in an eternally infinite void, the passing of time marked only by the unending paroxysms of pleasure.

At last, when I felt as though I could withstand no more ecstasy, Wynne grew tired. Either she was totally pooped or she had finally run out of mana from her sexy spells, for the very Fade err faded away and we were once again in her tent.

"You pass, dear," Wynne said, wincing as she detached herself from our sore love glutted embrace. "Now, I will assign you some homework." She flicked her wand and a paper scroll appeared in my hand. "If you seduce all the people on this list, you will be an unstoppable sexy force," Wynne explained.

She flicked her wand again and I was suddenly clad in robes that were very reminiscent of those worn by the Sisters of the Chantry: all flowing and soft womb-like pinkish hue, except my robes had hearts embroidered upon them instead of sun rays and I doubted the Chantry Sisters wore crotch-less underwear, but then, with holy women you can never be too sure.

I looked at the first name on the list. What kind of name was Jory anyway?


	10. Chapter 10: Earth Moo-ving Equiptment

It was still night-time in the camp, as though it would remain night-time forever until some arbitrary set of pre-ordained conditions had been met which would trigger some form of transition in the static world around me. I rubbed my suddenly aching temples, Wynne's lesson had done some strange things to my vocabulary, magic clearly had odd drawbacks. The important question now was would men be intimidated by the sudden embiggening of my word pool or not? They are fairly simple creatures of basic lusts and shallow pride, my beauty and intelligence may prove to be too much for them. Is it possible to be too perfect?

Surely not!

I was meandering around the camp in a vague way, looking pretty of course, wondering how to find this "Jory" person when I walked straight into an armour-clad wall of manchest. I looked dazedly at the plates of shiny metallic armour before my eyes: It was made of several strips of metal with rounded ends and my magically enhanced brain told me it was something called "split mail". It reminded me of nothing less than dog biscuits for some reason, though I hoped it protected the nice chest behind it better than those would do in a fight. Being nibbled to death by slobbering Mabari was probably not a nice way to meet ones maker.

I looked upwards and my baby blues widened in surprise and delight as I saw the face of the man to whom the solid wall of chest belonged to. He had an open and trusting complexion, with a passing similarity to the King's own features but without the King's cocksure manner and certainly without the flowing golden hair. This man's hair was brownish and was arranged in an odd short but spiky style that spoke of a mix of practicality and impish personality. I had the feeling he wore a helmet a lot and that armour spoke volumes about the kind of warrior's musculature that would be behind it... mmm.

He was handsome in a rather ordinary way, his eyes were somewhere between hazel and light brown. His nose was slightly too pointed for perfection, but nothing like as huge as the snozz that perched proudly upon Loghain's sallow features. He had a very attractive philtrum (I mentally raised my eyebrows at the word Wynne had put in my head) that made me want to caress his top lip with my own pursed pout, or my sensuous fingers, or with deep strokes of my open vulva... whatever.

His mouth looked kissable but strong, not sensually poofy like Cailain's, or mockingly cruel like Duncan's. It was too bad about that rather unfortunate patch of facial hair, it was like a goatee that wanted to aspire to a proper chin covering, but couldn't quite work up the nerve. All in all it was a face that was far from godly, but one I wouldn't mind sitting on some time.

"Er... hi!" the rather ordinary-by-my-standard's man said and his accent made my toes curl in a mixture of arousal and quite justified noble dismay. He clearly wasn't of noble blood, for no man of the peerage would address as lady by such cumbersome and plain terms, but neither was he a totally uneducated peasant. He'd had some education, I could tell, though that could not quite dissolve the metaphorical odour of wet dog that bespoke his humble origins. A nice bit of rough, in many ways.

"Hello there youtself stranger," I said, giving him a slight pout, "you wouldn't happen to be called Jory, would you?"

The man's face fell, as he realised my enviable affections were to be engaged upon another, presumably more worthy, personage, and he shook his head with what could only be described as total destitute misery.

"Ser Jory is one of our new recruit to the Wardens, you can find him receiving a blessing from one of the Chantry sisters." He glanced at my robes, clearly wondering if I was of the Chantry laity myself.

"Your recruits? Are you a Grey Warden?" I asked, hoping that not all Grey Wardens shared Duncan's passion for young pretty men and reversing their battle chargers through the back of the stable. If this man were also a Grey Warden, then his obvious lack of breeding did not matter so much. I did not know if Duncan had been nobility once, for Grey Wardens were not supposed to hold titties... er titles, I meant titles, of course.

"Yes I'm a friend of Duncan's, my name is Alistair," he said, offering me a gauntleted hand to shake.

I shook his hand with regal grace then surreptitiously whipped out my sexing list while he was occupied in politely pressingly his lips against the pale pink glove upon my peerlessly pale hand.

He wasn't on it.

Damn.

I briefly considered ravishing him anyway, but I considered how acting on my sexual impulses had brought me into Duncan's enslavement in the first place, for all I knew this Grey Warden's honest demeanour might hide an equally bestial nature, and I was tired of being treated like a possession to be passed around at whim. I gave this Alistair fellow a winsome smile and went in the direction he had indicated. The mouth between my thighs gave vent to a disappointed qweeb sound and I frowned because that was rather unladylike, not to mention gratuitous. I hope Alistair hadn't heard it.

Not far away was a small enclosure, no doubt a makeshift chapel for the Chantry sisters to hear confessions and give blessings to the troops here. Why were there so many troops here, again? Oh, right, the blight thing, whatever that was.

I found what could only be Ser Jory on his knees before a Chantry sister. That was certain a strange way of receiving a blessing! Evidently I had been missing out on some of the more esoterical religious practices of our sexy sect of Andraste, or perhaps my parents just patronised a more conservative congregation. Ser Jory seemed to be a most ardent worshipper, the way his head was bobbing all over the place, but the expression upon the face of the red-headed Laying Sister was one of duty and serene boredom.

"Hem hem," I hem hemmed, as politely as I could manage, knowing from experience that being walked in on while mid-lovemaking was never an easy thing to live down.

The Chantry Sister jumped back so quickly that Ser Jory was dislodged from her holy shrine of rapture and he fell backwards onto the floor. She twitched her robes down to cover the site of worship, but not before I'd had a glimpse of her glistening red-thatched love cottage.

"Oh arrrre yu 'ere to relieve moi, Andraaaste be praaized?!" she exclaimed, every vowel a wonder of nasalisation. She was clearly of Orlesian extraction, which might explain her slightly odd approach to religion by Ferelden standards. In my sexy robes she had obviously mistaken me for another of her Sisters, but before I could correct her she had run off back into the night, leaving me alone with the object of my sexy quest.

He was rather a disappointment, for a man who must be of some noble blood to achieve a knighthood and title of Ser, he was one ugly looking son of a Mabari. He was vaguely red-headed with a terrible, terrible, beard. A wide and flat nose plonked down in the vague middle of his face, his lips were wide and ugly. And his eyes were positively bovine. I frowned, partly at the homely and coarse features of the man Wynne had commanded me to sex up, but also at the unnecessary Thesaurus she had implanted within the grey creases of my cerebral cortex.

He rolled his big cow eyes up at me from his recumbent position sprawled upon the floor and muttered something about the fickle nature of foreign holy women. Whatever, I just wanted to get this over with. Ser Jory was obviously well-muscled under his armour, maybe I could just put a bag over his head or do it Mabari style.

"Let us pray," I said, getting upon all fours and flipping up my skirts, to show off my crotch-less underwear and well, my crotch, duh. Ser Jory rose up behind and slapped the perfect moons of my buttocks. I heard a clanking sound as his armour greaves and whatever he wore beneath them fell to the ground.

Then he plunged his sword of mercy into my holy shrine without the slightest attempt at foreplay. He mounted me like a bull mounts a um... cow: Bellowing and pulling at my teats with his clumsy hoof-like hands. I understood the bored look on the face of the Laying Sister now, Ser Jory was totally clueless. He was quite large in his man parts, but that alone was no use to me.

"Bless me sister, for I have sinned," Jory mooed in my ear as he mechanically thrust in and out of my under unappreciated love cavern.

"Oh, right," I muttered, remembering I was supposed to be playing the role of a holy woman. I struggled to remember the bits of the chant of light I had learned as a child, but only one verse came to mind at the moment.

"And there I saw the Black City, its towers forever stain'd, its gates forever shut. Heaven has been filled with silence, I knew then, and cross'd my heart with shame." My Black City was totally shut up at the current time, no rapturous moans breeched heaven and I felt ashamed that I had let this incompetent man up in my business.

I didn't know sex could be so bad! So boring, so unfulfilling! What was I supposed to learn from this? This had to be some cruel joke of Wynne's, that must be it! She was obviously jealous of my sexy skills and my youth, and, well, my everything. So sad that she felt she needed to sabotage my lovely life of rapture, but I guess that's what happens when you're old. I made a promise to myself never to get old, maybe I should seek out some kind of demonic bargain before I got much older. I mean, I was already eighteen, I wouldn't want to get any older and start getting crow's-feet or something. Ew.

I was lost in my train of thought that I had almost forgotten Jory still had his bigness up my passage. He came with a bellow that jolted me out of my self-reverie: "HELENA!"

Who the heck was Helena? Oh, whatever, I was so done with this sex list nonsense. I ignored Ser Jory, who was now lying in a puddle of his own cooling man gravy and pulled out the list again. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Arl Howe's name on the bottom of the list. He was one ugly guy, with a reputation for sexual deviancy (and not the good kind!) and my parents had occasionally tried to get me to marry his son. As if an Arl's son was good enough for me!

I tore up the list and stormed out of the Chantry. Again I walked straight into a wall of manchest. I looked up hoping it might be that rather nice peasant boy Alistair again, but it wasn't.

It was Duncan and he looked furious!

Shit.


	11. Chapter 11: Tainted Lust

Before I could speak a word in my defence, Duncan's metal-clad hand snaked its way around the tall white column of perfect flesh that was my throat and squeezed hard. A horrible gurgling sound was forced out of my mouth as within my heaving and perfectly-formed bosom my passionate heart pounded in sudden fear for my life. It was also kind of hot. The danger, not my bosom. Though I suppose both were really.

"You deceitful wench!" Duncan hissed and let go of me just as my vision was beginning to go all grey and wobbly like that time I'd sneaked a drink out of Aldous' homemade "special brain enhancing brew" back in Castle Cousland. I clutched at my wounded throat and fell to the ground coughing, wishing for once that I was not so weak and womanly and perfect in my maidenly frailty. If I were a man, I'd have cut Duncan down with one manly stroke before he could have touched me. Though that would probably put taint in Duncan's Wardenhood, knowing his preference for manly men.

"I claimed you for the Grey Wardens," Duncan muttered, looking down at me "that makes you my property to do with as I see fit. You do not slut around unless I command you to slut around!"

"I am not your slave," I spat up at Duncan when I had regained my breath. He was treating me like I was an elf or something, when I was a bootylicious human woman of the finest noble blood. It was totally degrading, and not in a good way.

"How many men have you skanked up since I brought you to the King? Have you lain the entire camp by now?"

"I lay where I choose!" I snapped at him.

"Give me their names!"

"I have been with General Loghain-"

"Damn you, he is beyond my reach!" Duncan snarled. "Who else?"

"The old mage lady Wynne-"

"Really?" Duncan seemed momentarily taken aback, surprised that his Wardenhood hadn't been enough for me. "Must have been a mage thing, I hear some of them can change sex at will. At any rate, she is Knight Commander Greagoir's personal courtesan, and as such is also out of reach of my blade, though why anyone would want to poke an old mud pile like that is beyond me."

"Wynne didn't grow a cock," I muttered, though the metal image was kind of hilarious as well as disturbing.

"Who else?" Duncan asked again, this was like being interrogated or something. A bit like when someone stole all the Qunari Delight from the special box mother had been given for her birthday and father for some reason thought it was me. I was totally unfairly persecuted, that powdered sugar on my chin could have come from anything!

"Umm," I ummed.

"Out with it wench, you are clearly dishevelled from a recent escapade of fleshly pleasures."

"It was Ser Jory," I said, wincing in shame.

Duncan made a face. "You either have very peculiar taste in men, or no standards whatsoever. Either way, it is an insult to me and my King that you should sully him so by allowing such filth inside the temple he had deigned to bless with his godly member."

"Huh?"

Duncan drew his sword in answer. I gulped at seeing his large naked weapon in his hand once more. It was cruel and curved, with a keen and deadly edge.

But he did not run me through with it. Instead he entered the chapel I had just vacated. Too late I saw his intentions and I lifted up my skirts and ran after him. I came into the chapel just in time to see Duncan impale Ser Jory with his huge blade. Jory's cow-eyes nearly popped from his head as the weapon slid inside him and pinned him to the wall. His life ran down his legs in spurts and I covered my mouth in horror at the gushiness of it all. It was not the first time I'd had a man killed for taking my virtue, but it hadn't been done in front of me before.

"Oh my Maker you can't just go around killing important NPCs!" I protested, trying to avoid stepping in gore.

"He's not important, chances are he would have never survived the Joining anyway," Duncan said.

"I hate you, I wish I'd never left Castle Cousland!"

"Tis well enough you did leave," Duncan said, smiling cruelly, "why later that same night your entire family was murdered by Arl Howe's men."

"What?" I was stunned. What about all the dresses I'd left behind? What about the crates of jewellery I hadn't been able to fit in my luggage? What about my ever so comfortable Emperor-size mattress with built in back massagers? Oh wait, if my parents were dead and if Fergus was dead and his little brat of son was dead too, that made me the heir of everything that might be left.

"Awesome!" I cried. "That means I inherit everything! No more family allowance for me! I'm going shopping! Where's the nearest ATM in the Korcari Wilds?"

Duncan sneered at me. "Not so fast, my fickle wanton Cousland, Grey Wardens hold no titles!"

"Oh come on, we both know I'd be no use to you except to look pretty and as pretty as I am, I don't think any dark spawn will be impressed by my rose and lily complexion, you know. And while my breasts and round, high and flawless, I do only have two of them."

Duncan folded his arms. "This is the price you pay for disobeying me, I am conscripting you and you will submit yourself to my taint."

"Again? Didn't we do that enough already?" I rolled my eyes at him and his fetish.

"No, this time you will drink from my chalice."

"Eww," I ewwed.

Duncan lifted up his battle skirt and dropped trou right in the middle of the chapel, heedless of Jory's dead body, the gore and his drying fluids. His swarthy lovestick was much bigger than I remembered and I blushed remembering how he had stuck it up my back passage only a short while ago.

"You cannot make me do this," I protested weakly, but Duncan grabbed my head with his strong dark hands and forced me down until I was kneeling between his legs. I contemplated sinking my teeth into his thick, dark Wardenhood but Duncan had evidently read my thoughts and gave my neck another warning squeeze. He thrust his hips forward and the flared head of his elephantine member was pushed between my reluctantly pursed lips.

Just the tip of his huge bigness filled my mouth, but that did not stop him from clasping my head to his crotch and thrusting his hips still harder. He filled my throat with his tainted cock until I fought for breath. Fortunately I have no gag-reflex, as I had discovered as a young teenager when I tried to lose weight a bit faster that my amazingly fast metabolism. Not that I was fat as a kid or anything.

Anyway, Duncan fucked my throat while muttering about what a shameless hussy I was, or something, I couldn't really hear him. I was furious with him for forcing the Joining on me and didn't use any of the amazing cock-sucking skills Wynne had planted in my head. I just knelt there passively as he forced his taint upon me.

Eventually he came with a grunt and his tainted lust flowed from his manly chalice, flooding my mouth with foul tasting spunk. He was in my throat so deep there was no way I could spit it all up and I knew the instant I swallowed the taint. My body went all floppy and I passed out.

In my dream I rode upon a unicorn once more, but this time the unicorn was made of fire and blood. Its skin scorched my thighs and the smell of burning flesh wafted through my nose. Even whem I burned I still smelled like roses. The landscape around me was rippling and disjointed. Far above me. floating in the sky were the ruins of some dark city. Something was familiar about this whole thing, hadn't Mother Mallol mentioned something about a Black City? Whatever, who had time to listen to religious ladies when you were getting your nails done by an elfish slave?

Suddenly, without warning, because that's what suddenly means, the unicorn threw me off its burning back and I plummeted forever as the world burned around me. I heard the screams of an ancient dying god and a huge purple dragon thing flew around.

Then the horn of the unicorn pierced my breast and my vision exploded and everything went dark.


	12. Chapter 12: Senshi and I know it

I moaned piteously as I slowly awoke from my taint-induced swoon and my eyelids fluttered reluctantly open as I realised I was still alive, but forever changed. I felt a callused hand lightly caress my cheek before quickly retreating, as if its owner was ashamed of daring to touch my perfectly divine lily and rose complexion with their low peasantry hands roughed by years of menial labour. I wondered who it was, because it certainly wasn't Duncan, he was only interested in caressing my butt, not my face.

My eyesight slowly swam back into its normally perfect focus and I saw that nice bit of rough Alistair chap looking down at me. He wiped the last traces of taint off my chin with what I hoped was a handkerchief but was more likely a sweat rag, only gentlemen carried handkerchiefs, after all. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens," he said, with a wary look in his eyes. For some reason he was carrying a bunch of flowers in his other hand.

He offered me his hand and pulled me gently to my feet. "You know, there have never been many women in the Wardens," he said, his gaze darting to the curves of my bosom before dashing back up to my face. Hmm, I think I had a virgin on my hands here. Well that little problem wouldn't stop me for long if I condescended to bestow my enviable affections on his unworthy personage.

"I think the predilections of your Commander might explain that lack of the distaff gender among your ranks," I muttered. Damn that magical thesaurus, it was amazing I could make myself understood when I kept using words with lots of syllabubs by accident! Syllabubs? Suddenly I was really hungry, and not for man-meat, either.

Alistair blushed and it was kind of cute if I was completely honest with myself, which I always am, as I'm sure you know. "I know that Duncan has some... odd personal habits, but he's a good man," he said. Wow, talk about clueless, I wondered where this simpleton had been when his "good man" had murdered Jory. Not that Jory's life was worth a gnat's tumescence in an Antivan whorehouse.

Tumescence, brain? Seriously?

"Do you know where I could get a light snack, say maybe a deep-fried Orlesian chocolate gateaux wrapped in maple bacon? Or a turducken roasted inside a swan roasted inside a horse roasted inside an elephant? Ooh, or maybe a life sized statue of Andraste made out of pink fondant and dipped in strawberry meringue chocolate? Wait, what is an elephant and does it taste good because I am starving?!"

Alistair laughed and my heart skipped a beat, out of sudden joy, not because I was having a coronary or anything. I had a perfectly healthy heart and I could probably eat all those things and not gain a pound. "That's the Joining going to town on your appetite," Alistair explained as he lead me through the camp towards a big tower. I noticed that while it was still night in the camp, it was obviously somewhat later at night than it had been before I fainted. Some arbitrary conditions had obviously be met, but I had no idea what they were or when day would break once more.

"What other changes can I expect?" I asked, hoping the Joining wasn't going to make me fat, because that really would be the worstest revenge Duncan could have upon my luscious figure. He would love it if my butt got really big, I'm sure.

"Bad dreams, ability to sense Darkspawn, oh and you'll die in thirty years time."

"So I won't live long enough to get old and saggy? What's the down side?"

Alistair laughed again and gave my bosom another of those sidelong glances that he probably thought were discreet. Bless. Why did I think this gormless virgin was so adorable, was that another side-effect of the Joining? I do not deign to dally with peasants, unless they are super rich or something.

"So what were you doing while Duncan was... initiating me into your ranks?" I eyed the flowers as I asked this.

"He sent me to retrieve some ancient treaties from our old abandoned outpost. Oh and I picked some flowers." He pushed them into my hands. They weren't roses or anything, just ordinary wild flowers that could have grown anywhere in a swamp, in fact some of them even had aphids still on their petals. But it was the first time anyone had actually given me anything as a romantic favour rather than just took what they wanted from me. At least this way the creepy crawlies were only on the flowers.

"Oh thank you," I said, giving him a perfect smile.

"They help bind wounds and can stop bleeding when taken as a tea," he explained.

Oh, he was being practical, not romantic. How disappointing.

"What are the treaties for?" I asked, displaying an perhaps uncharacteristic interest in what was obviously a plot device for some grand, multiple-arc spanning, main quest. Or maybe I just wanted to make conversation because I enjoyed the way Alistair's lips moved.

"Oh these old things were just relics from earlier blights, so that we could call in our allies, if we needed them. Not that we do need them, right this minute."

"So why were they lying around in an old abandoned outpost?"

"Fetch quest tradition, people are always leaving thing lying around so heroes have some things to do besides kill bandits. But what was interesting about these treaties was they weren't where they were supposed to be."

"How did you find them then?" I was discovering I liked talking with this man, something about the way he looked at me was different from any other man I had been with before. Almost as if he was interested in my personality as well as the delicious hanging ladygarden that lay between the ivory towers of my thighs.

"There was a witch in the middle of the wilds, one of the Chasind I think. Odd dress sense for someone who lives in the middle of a swamp." He frowns at this memory and I get the feeling he really didn't like this swamp witch lady, which was good because I found I enjoyed having his full attention. "She guided me through the wilds to a cottage where an even weirder woman she claimed was her mother held the treaties in trust for the Wardens."

"That seems surprisingly unnecessary for a character cameo, maybe we will see them again some time."

Alistair stopped walking and pointed upwards at the massive white tower that uh towered over us: "The Tower of Ishal," he said. It was a tower, by the way, I think I forgot to mention that.

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked, realising I'd been following him without question. He had a pretty smile okay. And nice round... split mail pieces.

"This is where King Cailan and Duncan want us to be stationed during the battle. To be honest I'd rather be on the front lines with the rest of the wardens, but for some reason those two didn't want the newest Grey Wardens on the field."

"Battle? As in against the dark spawn?" I suddenly quivered all over, and not in a good way. I had no fighting experience, unless you count pulling Fergus' hair and setting fire to his bed that one time. I was far too maidenly and delicate to wield a weapon, and I wasn't cursed with magic like some diabolical mage creature. Sweet Andraste, could you imagine what a horrible life a woman like me would have if they were forced to be kept prisoner in a Circle? When I drive men wild with desire when I lift my dresses higher. It was a good thing magic only happened to bad people who really deserved it.

"Err, fighting dark spawn is what Grey Wardens usually do, did Duncan not mention that part to you?"

"I was hoping for more of a ceremonial role... do the Wardens play team sports? I would make an excellent cheerleader captain, or I could be the mascot. I know this elfish tailor slave lady who could rustle me up a sexy gryphon costume in a trifle."

"So you have no combat skills?" Alistair asked, going slightly cross-eyed, probably from the mental image of me in a short skirt.

"I could maybe sing a song to inspire you in battle." I do have a natural perfect singing voice but I didn't sing much because it made people weep from the unbearable beauty of my song, and it was hard to bear the burden of so much natural talent.

"Oh you're a bard? That's great!"

Before I could protest that bards were peasant who were no better than they ought to be and that I was a true blue-blooded noble and now the lost heir of the Couslands, Alistair suddenly jumped on top of me.

"Oof," I oofed as the wind was knocked out of my lungs when my bosom collided with his manly splint mail chest. This was a bit forward for a man who blushed so easily, wasn't it? Then a ball of flaming fire hit the ground where I had been standing and exploded into flames.

Oh, he wasn't getting fresh, just saving my life. Pity.

"You saved my life!" I exclaimed, while he lay on top of me, looking all worried and slightly tousled.

"That came from inside the tower," Alistair muttered, removing himself from my pneumatic embrace and avoiding looking me in the eyes. I wished he'd stayed on top of me a little longer, but I suppose the middle of the battlefield during an assault was not really the time or the place to make with the snuggles.

"Why did flaming death nearly incinerate me?" I asked.

"The tower's not supposed to have anything in it except the beacon!" Alistair's eyes suddenly widened and I felt a strange tingling sensation that had nothing to do with my nethers, for once.

"Dark spawn?" I asked, my skin breaking out in goose bumps, but in a pretty way, of course.

"Yes, but how did they get in?!" Alistair exclaimed and drew his sword as a mass of heaving dark and twisted bodies spewed forth from the tower gate. Alistair obviously knew his way round a sword and shield, for he killed the foul beasts with ease, but how could he hope to prevail again so many foes?

I remembered I was supposed to be helping, but would my excellent singing voice really make any difference? What a silly question, had I forgotten who I was? I felt a thrumming power in my brain, that was surely part of the joining. I could do this, I knew I could.

I put my hand in the air, my perfect palm facing the sky, fingers spread wide and yelled the power words that formed upon my talented tongue.

"VAGINA STAR POWER!"

A blast of rainbow light dissolved my robes and was sort of naked and glowing for an instant before a bikini and a mini skirt in rainbow leopard print patterns wrapped themselves around my body. A yonic symbol blossomed upon my chest as my hair blew in a special wind that moved only for me. A strange silver metal wand with a black foam head appeared in my outstretched hand and as my fingers closed around it I noticed that the rainbow light had also given me a manicure.

I struck a pose and instinctively raised the rod to my rosy lips as I began my song: "Ah, boy look at that body..."

It was impossible to transcribe the beauty of my song beyond these first few words, but it was a deeply moving ballad of my tragic beauty and sensuality, that all men wanted to taste and all women envied, but no one really understood. Anyway it was really good and the Darkspawn pretty much gave up fighting and cried right then and there. I think one of them was actually playing along on a harmonica, but Alistair decapitated him before I could double-check.

"That was the second most strangest manifestation of Grey Warden powers I've ever seen!" Alistair said after he had finished killing the now helpless fan boy Darkspawn. He was even cuter when splattered in the blood of evil abominations. I instinctively brushed some of the goop off his cheek with my hand and he looked at me with his eyes all aflame with wonder.

But before we got any further than some tension-filled looks a horrible roar filled the air and the ground shook. "An ogre!" Alistair exclaimed and threw himself back into the battle. I couldn't think of anything else to sing so I just sort of waved my arms around and went "Grey wardens! Rah! Rah! Rah!" It seemed to help a bit as Alistair jumped in the air all slow-mo and stabbed the ogre to death.

We rushed forward and I saw a great pit in the floor beneath the foundations of the tower. The Darkspawn had tunnel in somehow! Alistair dashed forward and lit the beacon with flint and tinder, muttering incredibly mild swear words as he tried to coax the kindling into flame.

Then suddenly another hoard of Darkspawn broke in even as the beacon took light! Both me and Alistair took several arrows in the chest, though of course since I wasn't wearing armour it was a bit more painful for me. Owchies! As I fell down to the floor I saw Alistair beside me and I tried to reach out for his hand, but my strength failed me. The magical bikini dissolved and I was nude and bleeding out my life on the cold stone floor.

The last thing I realised before the darkness took me once more was that I hadn't had an orgasm for the last three chapters. No wonder I was at death's door!


End file.
